


if i knew what you'd do

by abovetheruins



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bad Flirting, Getting Together, M/M, Necromancer Shane, Necromancy, Reaper Ryan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 02:50:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16461971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abovetheruins/pseuds/abovetheruins
Summary: "Who the hell is Shane?"Ryan sinks into his seat. "Necromancer," he mutters, ignoring the embarrassed flush seeping into his cheeks. Fuck, this is humiliating. It's one thing for the others to know; he can put up with Steven and Curly's teasing. Telling hisbossis another matter entirely. "Look, it's no big deal, he just likes to... fuck with me."He knows he's chosen the wrong words the moment they leave his mouth. At his sides, Steven and Curly are practicallygiggling.





	if i knew what you'd do

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 'necromancy' prompt for this month's shyan scavenger hunt. Was only able to finish one fic for the hunt this month, but I kind of love how this came out!

Ryan takes one step inside the hospital lobby, and he _knows_.

It takes all of his willpower not to scream, to curse and wail at the heavens for making him put up with this bullshit. As it is, his teeth are clenched so hard he's surprised his molars haven't shattered, and any humans unfortunate enough to cross his path quickly scurry away despite not even being able to see him, repelled by the sheer force of his murderous rage. Riding the elevator to the fourth floor only serves to sour his mood further, but he does it anyway. He has to be sure.

Room 408 is bursting with the noise of happy humans, some of them shedding tears of joy as they convene around a little girl in the hospital bed. Ryan tries to hold on to his anger as he stands in the doorway and watches her smile, watches her family laugh and cry and fold her into their arms, but his heart softens at the sight anyway. _Damn it, Shane_ , he thinks, turning from the scene in self-disgust. _How many times are you going to do this?_

"Sir, wait!" Ryan glances over his shoulder to see the little girl chasing after him, her hospital gown fluttering around her knees. She smiles when he stops, big and bright and endearingly gap-toothed, and presses a bundle of flowers into his arms. "He said to give these to you!" she says, and then she's off again, back to the waiting arms of her happy parents.

Ryan stares after her until she disappears back into her room, not even surprised that she had been able to see him, and then he looks down at the flowers. The blossoms are a blend of blue and purple and red, soft against the bare skin of his forearms, and his first instinct is to find the nearest wastebasket and toss them in.

He doesn't; instead he strides from the hospital with a thunderous expression on his face and a strange, soft ache in his heart, cursing Shane Madej and his meddling ways the entire time.

* * *

The table goes silent as Ryan repeats his total for the third time, though it’s only a matter of seconds before he hears Steven snort beside him and the urge to throw a punch is nearly overwhelming. He hates these fucking meetings.

Steven's the first to break the silence. Of course. "Let me guess," he says, and Ryan doesn't even need to glance at him to know there's a smirk on his face. Fucking Steven. "Shane again?"

"Shane?" Daysha gives Ryan a look over her tablet, pausing in the midst of inputting his abysmal soul count. "Who the hell is Shane?"

" _Nobody_ ," Ryan hisses, at the same time that Curly coos, "His boy toy." Ryan shoots him a look of abject betrayal and Curly laughs, saying, "Put the sad eyes away, Bergara. You know it's true."

"He's not my fucking - " Ryan waves a hand, refusing to utter the words _boy_ or _toy_ in relation to Shane Madej. "He's not my _anything_. Dude's a menace."

"He's adorable," Curly corrects, before shrugging. "For a human."

Ryan scoffs.

Daysha snaps her fingers, bringing their attention back to her. "Again I ask," she says, one brow raised. "Who the hell is Shane?"

Ryan sinks into his seat. "Necromancer," he mutters, ignoring the embarrassed flush seeping into his cheeks. Fuck, this is humiliating. It's one thing for the others to know; he can put up with Steven and Curly's teasing. Telling his _boss_ is another matter entirely. "Look, it's no big deal, he just likes to... fuck with me."

He knows he's chosen the wrong words the moment they leave his mouth. At his sides, Steven and Curly are practically _giggling_.

"He gets a laugh outta screwing up my jobs," Ryan continues, ignoring his associates through sheer force of will. "He likes to show up before me, do his thing, you know." He taps at his chest. He's only seen the process once, the first time he ever met Shane. He'd been retrieving the soul of a young woman, or at least, that's what he'd been expecting to do, only to find a tall man in plaid leaning over her, a hand hovering over her chest and the other cupped around her soul, muttering softly as he coaxed it back into her body.

Afterwards he'd taken one look at Ryan and grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck as if embarrassed. "Was this one of yours?" he'd asked, and Ryan had been too stunned that he'd been recognized by a human to bother responding. "Oops, my bad! Sorry, man."

Daysha stares at him for long enough that Ryan starts to fidget beneath her gaze. "... How often has he done this?" she asks, and she sounds resigned, like she already knows the answer. Well, she _had_ just heard his soul count.

"A few times," Ryan hedges. Daysha's gaze sharpens and he quickly amends, "A dozen times. More or less."

Daysha sighs. She reaches for her drink and tosses it back before giving the rest of them a look. "What about you two? Has this Shane guy interfered with any of your jobs?"

Steven and Curly laugh on cue, and it's as creepy as it is annoying.

" _Please_ ," Curly scoffs, amused. "That boy only has eyes for Ryan."

“Doesn’t say much for his taste, but it’s true,” Steven adds. If Ryan weren’t so attached to his drink, he’d toss it right in the other reaper’s face.

“Fuck off,” he snaps, his neck warming. “Stop making it sound like – like – “

“Like he’s in love with you?” Curly asks, nonplussed. “Ryan, the man leaves you _gifts_.”

“Gifts?” Daysha asks, and shit, even she looks amused now.

“They’re not gifts,” Ryan returns, though in the back of his mind he can’t help but think about the flowers perched in his windowsill at home. Or the new mug in his cabinet. Or the stuffed bear sitting on his nightstand. “He’s just taunting me, laughing at me. He likes to rile me up.”

“I bet,” Steven mutters, smirking.

“Alright, alright,” Daysha intervenes, discarding her tablet and splaying her hands across the tabletop. All three of them straighten in their seats. “Whatever this guy’s… Intentions may be, I won’t have him interfering with our work. You get me, Ryan?”

Ryan sputters. “What the fuck do you want me to do about it? I can’t just ask him to stop – “

“You can and you will,” Daysha tells him, the tone of her voice brooking no arguments, before pushing herself up from the table. “Now that we’ve gotten that settled – I’m out. Until next month, gentlemen.”

* * *

“You’re gonna get me fired,” Ryan says as soon as Shane opens the door.

Shane raises a brow. “Nice to see you too, Ryan,” he says, lips curling as Ryan shoots him a glare.

“I’m being serious, asshole,” he gripes, pushing past Shane into the apartment. He toes off his Jordans in the entryway before making a beeline toward the couch, calling over his shoulder, “My boss was all over me today because of you.”

Shane mock-gasps. “You engaged in office gossip about me? Ryan, I’m touched.”

“A dick is what you are,” Ryan grumbles, plopping down onto the couch with an irritated sigh. He can feel his lips twitching in the beginnings of a smile despite his annoyance, and he clenches his jaw so he won’t give into the urge. “You’ve never gotten your ass reamed by Daysha; ergo, you don’t understand how pants-shittingly terrifying it is. Some sympathy would be nice.”

“Oh, I’m plenty sympathetic,” Shane’s voice echoes from the kitchen. A few moments later he’s by Ryan’s side, bowl of popcorn in hand, which he gleefully drops into Ryan’s lap before taking the seat beside him. “That must have been so hard for you, Ryan.” His voice wavers with barely-restrained laughter, and Ryan makes the executive decision to hog the popcorn for the rest of the night, just to spite him.

“My coworkers have a theory about you, you know,” he says, as casually as he can manage as Shane reaches for the remote and starts scrolling through Netflix. He hadn’t planned on bringing this up, but the desire to throw Shane off his game is too strong to ignore. And alright, maybe Ryan’s curious.

“Oh?” Shane hums, eyes affixed to the screen. Ryan studies his profile, the jut of his chin and the bow of his lips, the long line of his nose and the curve of his brow, all the way up to his ridiculous hair, fluffy and full without any product to tame it down. His heart does something a little funny as he takes in all of the familiar components of his… shit, his friend. That’s what they are, aren’t they? Shane infuriates him on a daily basis and has seemingly made it his goal in life to screw with Ryan’s career but Ryan can’t deny that he enjoys the guy’s company. He’s here, isn’t he? Having yet another movie night with the guy that he swore to his coworkers is nothing but a menace, a menace who takes joy in annoying the ever-loving shit out of Ryan, a menace who knows exactly what Ryan is and couldn’t care less, a menace who had _given him flowers_.

Curly’s voice echoes in his head, soft and amused: _That boy only has eyes for Ryan_ , and Ryan decides _fuck it_.

“They think you have a thing for me,” he says, watching Shane’s face and noticing the minute changes in the neutral expression he’d been sporting, how his lips firm up for a second before smoothing into a straight line, how his eyes flicker to Ryan before darting back to the television screen.

“A thing, you say?” he asks, casual as you please. Deliberately so, and Ryan finds himself smirking, having known Shane long enough to be able to pick up on when he’s actually nonchalant and when he’s only _acting_ like he is.

“I tried to tell them you just like to mess with me,” Ryan sighs, popping a handful of kernels into his mouth as he watches Shane skim through movie titles. “But they wouldn’t listen to me. They’re convinced you’ve got a crush on me.” That hadn’t exactly been their wording, but Ryan doubts he can say _they’re convinced you’re in love with me_ and retain any semblance of composure, so. Best not to risk it.

“Huh,” Shane breathes, continuing to shift from title to title seemingly on autopilot. Ryan’s never seen the guy nervous, but if he had to place bets, he’d wager that this is pretty close. “Is that even possible, a human and a reaper? Sounds like a conflict of interests to me.”

Ryan snorts. “Only if the human in question keeps fucking with the reaper’s soul count,” he says, nudging Shane’s sock-clad foot with his own. He catches Shane’s lips curling into a smirk and shakes his head. _Asshole_. “There’s no rule against it. Steven’s got a human boyfriend and no one gives a shit.” Of course, Andrew’s not a necromancer, but that’s beside the point. The higher ups wouldn’t bat an eye about his and Shane’s relationship – whatever it may be – so long as Shane quit fucking up his jobs.

“He does?” Shane asks, and he sounds genuinely surprised, turning his head to seek out Ryan’s face. “That’s funny, he never mentioned – “ His eyes go wide just as Ryan goes very still, and his soft, “Oops,” is so reminiscent of the first time they met all those months ago that Ryan is hit with a wave of nostalgia.

“Who never mentioned what, Shane?” he asks slowly, eyes narrowing as Shane hems and haws, avoiding his gaze. It’d be cute if Ryan wasn’t so annoyed. “ _Shane_.”

“Okay, so Steven might have offered his assistance once or twice – “

_Fucking Steven_ , Ryan thinks. No wonder he’d been shooting those smug little smirks at Ryan every fucking month! “He told you about my jobs, didn’t he?”

Shane blows out a breath. “He might have done something along those lines.”

Ryan makes a mental note to kill his coworker. He ignores the fact that reapers can’t technically die. He’s resourceful; he’ll find a way.

But first, there’s something he needs to know. “ _Why_?”

“Because I asked him to?” Ryan shoots Shane a look, and some of his frustration must finally get through Shane’s thick skull because he drops the funny guy act and sighs. “Because I wanted to be able to get there before you.”

“Why?” Ryan repeats, though the question lacks the irritated edge of its predecessor.

For the first time all night, Shane actually looks flustered. He’s leaning forward, elbows perched on his knees and the long line of his body hunched inward, almost as if he’s trying to hide. “Ryan,” he starts, only to falter and go silent, brows furrowed in frustration.

Ryan takes pity on him. “Was it just to fuck with me?”

Shane glances at him. “At first,” he says, and at least he has the grace to look apologetic. “You got so riled up. It was cute.”

Ryan scoffs. “Cute? Seriously, dude?”

“Seriously, _dude_ ,” Shane teases, knocking their knees together. “You’re cute when you’re irritated, Bergara. It’s a thing. Own it.”

Ryan grumbles, but he lets the matter rest, not interested in arguing or drawing attention to the warmth flooding his face. He has more important things on his mind, anyway – like Curly and Steven and their secretive grins every time he brought Shane up, like Curly and his innuendos whenever he saw one of Shane’s gifts, like the incredulous looks on both their faces whenever Ryan would complain about the necromancer who kept irritating him for _no good reason_.

In hindsight, maybe he _had_ been a little oblivious, but it’s not like Shane doesn’t deserve some of the blame. There were better ways to express an interest than being a goddamn irritant. “Hate to break it to you, big guy, but as far as flirting methods go, yours are… “

“Fucking terrible,” Shane finishes with a laugh, slumping back against the couch cushions, close enough that their shoulders brush. “I’m well aware, thanks, but you should cut me some slack. Didn’t know how else to get your attention.”

Ryan snorts. “You could have just asked,” he says, allowing his weight to settle more firmly against Shane’s side. It’s the closest they’ve ever been in the course of their short, strange friendship, but it’s nice, feeling Shane’s warmth, feeling him breathe.

“Yeah?” Shane’s sleepy eyes trace over his face, soft and very warm. “That would have worked?”

Ryan shrugs, pretending to consider it. “Who knows? I mean, I’m here now, aren’t I? Even after all the stunts you pulled. Guess your master plan worked after all.”

Shane wheezes, eyes scrunching up as he laughs, and Ryan’s heart somersaults straight into his throat. “You’re making me sound like a criminal mastermind.” He mimes twirling an imaginary mustache and wiggles his eyebrows. “That a thing for you, Bergara?” A long arm settles across the back of the couch, snug against Ryan’s shoulders, and he’s almost annoyed by how much he’s charmed by such a cliché move.

“It must be,” he sighs, allowing his head to drop to Shane’s shoulder and enjoying the quiet hitch in Shane’s breath, like the lack of space between them wasn’t enough of a sign that Ryan was into this, into _him_. Idiot.

Shane seems to get with the program easily enough, judging by the careful shift of long fingers through Ryan’s hair. Shivers rocket down his spine at the light, almost ticklish touch, and he arches into the caress with a barely audible sigh.

Words don’t seem necessary for a while; they’re content to sink into the bubble of quiet that has descended around them, broken only by the soft rustle of Shane’s fingers carding through Ryan’s hair and the hum of the air kicking on. It’s new – usually their time together is spent tossing banter back and forth or extoling the virtues (or lack thereof) of whatever film they’ve decided to watch – but it’s nice. Comfortable. Easy. Ryan could get used to it.

Shane’s the first to break the silence. “Did I really almost get you fired?” he asks, his tone sheepish.

Ryan huffs a laugh against his collarbone. “Fired, no, but reassigned? Probably. Any more botched jobs and Daysha may send me to a different city, one with no meddling necromancers to follow me around.”

Shane’s fingers twitch in his hair, tightening around the strands. The sensation only lasts a split second but Ryan still shivers. “I’ll stop,” Shane says lowly, his voice firm and far more somber than Ryan has ever heard it before. It’s a little humbling that all it took was the notion of losing him to sway Shane’s hand, and Ryan’s lips curl into a wide, pleased smile without any input from his brain.

“Oh, you should definitely stop interfering with my soul count,” he agrees, tilting his head to shoot Shane a cheeky grin. “But the rest of it – the rest of it is good.” He waves a hand lazily between them, encompassing their proximity, the easy sprawl of their bodies tucked together, and the room around them, set up for the movie nights that have become a staple of their friendship. “This, the gifts – “ _The flirting_ , he doesn’t add, though it’s included all the same. “You don’t have to stop.”

Shane smiles, a small, content curl of a thing, and ducks his head. “Well, if you insist, Bergara,” he breathes, mouth hovering a few tantalizing inches from Ryan’s own – still teasing, even now. Probably always will be, Ryan thinks with a roll of his eyes, fond and a little frustrated all at once.

But it’s okay. The distance between their lips isn’t far at all, and all it takes is a tilt of his head to breach it.


End file.
